


In Session

by Unoriginality



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Stream of Consciousness, prompts from theme comms, therapy is your friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 08:52:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3644184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unoriginality/pseuds/Unoriginality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, responding to a prompt will get you talking about more than you realized it could.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Session

**Author's Note:**

> Written using March 2015 31_Days@LJ themes numbers 13, 14, 25, 29, 28, 31, and 26.

_[silence is my self defense]_

I don't think he realizes that. Maybe he does. But I think he's so frustrated with it that he just wants it to end. He wants me to not be defending myself from him.

He doesn't seem to understand it's not him I'm defending myself from. It's me.

_[the story of how I never stopped running]_

I don't want to keep running. Running's exhausting. But the day I stop running, they'll find me. I'd say I'm safe once they're gone, but they'll never be gone. They're not a hydra, even a hydra could be defeated by the right Hercules. They're a virus. A disease that never fully goes away, waiting to infect the population when it's least expected.

They'll never be gone.

So I guess I'll never stop running.

_[That’s not who you are. It’s just how you feel.]_

I call bullshit on that. If I'm not what I feel, then what the hell am I? Something else? I don't _want_ to be something else. I was already something else. I feel like what they made me, what they _really_ made me. I didn't feel that then. I do now.

Let me feel it. Maybe someday I'll stop. But I've got a lot of years to feel for first.

_[No one is ever ordinary.]_

I think compared to me, most people are. I used to be. I miss it. People take their normalness for granted. Everyone's such a special goddamn snowflake, desperate to not blend in with the crowd. Lucky fuckers. That's all I want to do, is to blend in and disappear. Stand out less. Not so much of a walking target for Hydra.

I _want_ to be ordinary. I used to be. You never really know how wonderful it is to be so... normal. Not until something makes you _ab_ normal.

It's not as fun as it sounds.

_[Happiness is just a life away]_

Don't tell me it's not. It was a life away in the past, and it'll probably be a life away in the future. My present has one nice, shiny thing and that's Steve. Don't get me wrong, he's a big ball of sunshine with glitter shiny, but there's a life of darkness that the sun can't drive away in less than a year. I know I'm messed up. I know it's going to take a long time before I can say I'm not as much.

So it might as well be another life away.

_[it’s time for goodbye again]_

Huh. Yeah, it is. I lost track of time, I guess. Same time next week? Okay. Bye, Doctor Lewis. I guess I'll be here again.

***

Steve looked up from his phone, taking one earbud out, when Bucky stepped out of the psychiatrist's office. "Done for today?"

Bucky nodded. "Yeah. You know I hate this, right?"

"You say that every week," Steve said, shutting down his music and tucking his phone and headphones into his pocket. "But it seems to be helping."

"Maybe a little."

Steve stood. "Well, care to go find some food and something that isn't wallowing in a reality that kinda sucks?"

Once again, Bucky nodded. "Yeah. Food sounds good. Why the fuck did we schedule these things before lunch?"

"So we have something to do to clear your mind afterwards," Steve said, flinging an arm around Bucky's shoulders, unmindful of the way the left shoulder was unyielding against his ribcage. "I had you and your bottomless stomach in mind."

"You have no room to talk about bottomless stomachs."

Steve grinned, enjoying hearing Bucky's grumpiness. It was a good sight better than the silence that had always greeted him after therapy. Or anytime, really. Bucky might not admit it just yet, but the appointments were making him sound a lot more like his old self than he used to.

"Come on, Buck. Let's get out of here."

_[We have enough reality today.]_


End file.
